pick your poison
by solicitors
Summary: (and Riley is his his his his his his) — lucas/maya
1. lucas

**hmm i just barely got a laptop and i'm now going to use it to update more frequently, because of my laptop that means i get a computer to myself obviously! so! here we go!**

* * *

You meet her on a subway. Her lips a light shade of pink and she's smiling at you, her hands folded out in front of her as she introduces herself. She's Maya, you do know that much. She speaks a little too much and the glint in her eye is a little too mischievous for you but you smile and nod.

You don't remember much that happened in the seven seconds she talked to you, all that you seemed to remember was that you entered a relationship and it was immediately broken off. She sits down next to for you a moment, her smile wide and her schemes obvious. And all she does is talk, and you listen. And then she gets up, walks away, and the next thing you know is that there is a pretty brunette sitting in your lap.

Her smile is soft and sweet.

And you think you like her.

/

The girl named Maya likes to make fun of you. You don't mind much, she seems to enjoy herself—but you won't let her win. It's a game to her, and it's certainly a game to you. And it keeps you on your toes, and most certainly hers.

And it's fun.

She points her pale finger at you and you shake it slightly, smiling, tipping your imaginary hat. Her eyes are filled with annoyance and she shakes her head as you walk away with her best friend—the girl you like, you most certainly like. And you know that there's a smile on her face threatening to explode.

You walk past a flower shop and you know that the blonde beauty will be at the dance and you ask yourself, oh you ask yourself, _what will be the best way to annoy her_? And you see that rose screaming her name. So when you're dancing with the girl you like, you think of her and give her the rose.

She rolls her eyes.

/

Her head are in her hands and she's grimacing in embarrassment as her mother introduces herself and she's immediately well known. She's Maya Hart who has the crazy mother who think she's an actress and she sighs.

You feel bad.

So when your best friend Farkle has no absolute filter and he doesn't understand a word he's saying, you see her face and you grab Farkle to stop him. And you feel bad, you know that you feel bad. But there's nothing you can do.

/

She calls you Bucky McBoingBoing and you can't help but smile as she sings a song she dedicated to you.

/

She's at your house and she's sticking her finger in the piles of muffin batter and you're swatting her hand away because _germs_ and gross, stop it Maya! She doesn't listen to you, she never listens to you. Her ass is on the kitchen counter and her feet are swaying and she's singing something, you just don't know what.

She bonds with your mother. They laugh in unison as she flips through those old baby albums of yours and you can feel a slight blush creeping up on your cheeks, because you most definitely didn't want her to be seeing that.

They throw a muffin at her head, and you laugh.

She fires you and she smiles and you smile back. Her face is close to yours and she's repeating something you have never said before but she smiles and you laugh and shake your head as she walks away, following the girl you like. (The girl you know you like, the girl you think you like.)

/

You call your best friend from Texas and you tell him about her. She's the girl with the mischievous smile and the harmonious laugh. She's the girl who accepts you for who you are, and she's the girl with the broken home and the broken heart.

You call her the blonde beauty.

But you musn't forget about the girl you like. She's the pretty brunette.

/

You go up to her and tell her that you'll be taking over. She frowns and her eyebrows furrow and she asks you, what? You tell her you're taking her out. She says you're not her type.

And you roll your eyes, but you have to think? Will you ever be her type? But you tell her that you're taking her out of the game and she whines and rolls her eyes but she gives you the ball and stomps away from you and you shake your head but you throw the ball.

Your mind isn't taken off of her for one second as you tell your best friend to go visit their house to scare the girls. He agrees and he's confused as you know the streets of her neighborhood like the back of your hand but you don't need to explain.

You smile at her as she opens the window and you look over to the girl you like and she's absolutely terrified. But you laugh as the the girl you like's best friend scolds you and tells you to stop scaring her friend like that. You don't care much that you're in trouble with her.

/

You two check the library in search of your best friend. She looks everywhere, frantically for the small boy infamous for his turtlenecks. She checks under the counters and the librarian yells at her for being so loud.

You've learned from past experience that violence isn't the answer, so when she threatens to hurt your best friend's bully, you pick her up softly and you can feel her flinch, but she attempts to keep going. You set her down and she rolls her eyes, a smile threatening to expose on her features. "Am I there yet?" she asks sarcastically.

She hops on your back and soothes you as she tells you what you told her. Violence isn't the answer and she holds her arms around you tightly and her legs are wrapped around your torso. You know she's just as mad as you about the whole Billy predicament but she holds onto your body tightly, never wanting to let go. You know you accidentally put the fear of God in her best friend, but the blonde was unfazed. And you should like Riley, you know you should.

But something doesn't click.

You go up to talk to your teacher and you look back at the girl with the word _broken_ scrawled across her forehead and your heart leaps and you smile, and so does she.

/

Your stomach churns as she fawns over the girl you like's uncle. You shouldn't be feeling this way, but you do as her body is attached to his. She twirls her finger and says they're married, taking him away from the girl you like's brother.

You sit next to her and she talks and you look at her with a smile, which is immediately erased as her attention is back towards the high school student. It isn't right, you think. She's thirteen and he's seventeen or sixteen; you don't really seem to know. But you don't say anything, it isn't your business, not really.

"I just want to go home," you say over and over again.

It's true, but the girl with the soft smile and the brunette hair beckons you to say. But something isn't right with the way her blonde best friend looks at the girl you like's uncle like he's a piece of meat and she hasn't eaten in days.

But you stay for her, the girl you like. (At least you think so.)

/

You take the girl you like on a date, your very first and most important date, at least you think so. And the girl you like has a smile on her face that you can't seem to get rid of.

Her best friend tags along with your best friend, Farkle. It's a double date and you feel as if something is going to wrong, not that anything is right. She shouldn't be going with Farkle, you think. But it isn't any of your business.

Your heart aches for her as her heart gets broken right in front of your eyes. She walks up to the uncle she had previously been obsessed with, and she talks with him. She's crying inside and you grimace.

But it isn't any of your business. So you let the girl you like grab your face and kiss you.

/

You don't see her for the whole summer and she starts talking to you like you hadn't ever been separated. She jokes with you and blows a kiss towards you. She's a lot more intimate than she was during the seventh grade. Her smile is wider and her jokes are bigger.

And she's mischievous, she's got something planned as she exposes you to the girl you like's father. Yes, you did kiss her, but you don't think much of it. You think more of the kiss she blows aimed towards you and the look she gets as Farkle proposes to her.

And you're familiar with this feeling, the feeling you get whenever she's around Josh. And you're jealous.

But you like her best friend, don't you?

/

She doesn't treat you any different as your old friend from Texas exposes your secrets to the world. She calls you Huckleberry and you call yourself Ranger Rick. She calms your nerves with jokes and she smiles when you're frowning.

And, you think, at least we haven't changed.

I finally like you, she says.

But the girl you like is mad at you. Shouldn't you fix that? You don't know anymore.

/

She points a threatening finger at you and you can't help but feel that the whole Riley and Maya predicament is your fault. She refuses to sit by you and the girl you think you like. She threatens Zay and you take her hand, putting it up against your chest.

Your heartbeat speeds up as you calm her, and she shakes her head and grumbles, pulling her hand away from your shirt. She goes back to her seat and she refuses to put her elbow on your desk, like she's done oh so many times before.

And when the girl you think you like's other uncle comes to town to fix her and her best friend's relationship, the girl you aren't supposed to like talks to you with a smile on her face. She calls you all of your familiar nicknames and you sigh as things go back to normal. Eric asks why she does that.

Because he lets me.

Well, why do you let her? You don't seem to know.

/

She's the reason you're in detention and you have to choose between the girl you think you like and the girl you're not supposed to like. And you choose her as you run out into the halls, following her.

She has crazy rules and she slathers paint on everyone's faces. She asks for your help and you oblige, grabbing the paint and slowly, but surely, swiping the paint down her nose and lips. Her breath hitches and she looks up at you with a surprised look and you smile. She shakes her head and ignores you. You don't talk about it.

She grabs your shirt and pulls you close to her, her breath lingering over your lips. Her voice is sweet and sick, menacing and tasty. She smells like vanilla and her lips like strawberry. And you're an inch, only an inch away from kissing her.

But you like her best friend, so you refrain from doing so and you talk to her, your voice soft and sarcastic and she rolls her eyes as you ask her to call you Mad Dog.

The girl you think you like is sweet and nice and soft and wonderful. She's certainly wonderful, but you feel as if something doesn't click when she wipes your face clean and you feel as if something had just been taken away from you.

And you frown as the girl you accidentally like is sent for an extra amount of detention. She sighs. You sigh.

/

You sit next to her as the debate goes on and the girl you think you like's infamous uncle is running for senator. You argue and fight with people as you express your opinion.

She reassures you. And she calls you by your name. You're surprised but she reassures that she likes you very much. (At least that's what you heard.)

/

She jokes and she comes close to your face once more. She laughs to herself and you smile.

You flip through the yearbook curiously as the girl who sits behind you says that you two were voted as favorite couple. She looks at him in disbelief, as if it were his fault. She looks back at her best friend who is screaming internally and you don't know what to _do_ , because you don't want to hurt the girl you're supposed to like's feelings and if you do, you hurt the girl you aren't supposed to like's feelings.

The girl you're supposed to like is filled with anger and she changes her persona and the girl you aren't supposed to like attempts to change her back. She changes herself along the way, too. And you're not really that mad about the girl you're supposed to like changing, but your stomach is filled with some type of thing you're not used to when the girl you aren't supposed to like changes herself to fit the needs of her classmates.

You want to scream at her. I love you for who you are, isn't that enough?

But it isn't. Because she's got Riley, and so do you, at least you think so.

She tells you something that her best friend doesn't seem to understand. And he knows what she means when she realizes that their relationship can only go as far as platonic. And he's happy, shouldn't he be?

/

She dances with you. You're supposed to be jealous over the girl you used to like, the girl who grabbed your face and _kissed_ you, but you aren't really. You let her be with the guy who really likes her and you dance with the girl you _do_ like. The girl you aren't supposed to like and you're certainly in denial.

She makes fun of you and she pops up and down like popcorn and you laugh.

You laugh.

/

You see her face as she gets told that her art class, the one thing she thinks she's good at (yet, she's oblivious to the many other things she's amazing at), is being taken away from her. Her heart hurts and her head is screaming but she sits back down in her seat and sighs.

You tell her you want her to be happy, because you do. You tell her that her art matters, you tell her that she's a great artist. Because those are the things that she needs to be hearing, not necessarily from you, but the things she needs to be reassured about. So you tell her you want her to be happy.

Because you do, you so do.

The girl you used to like has a confused expression and Maya doesn't know how to respond and Zay is cracking up in the back. Who knows what Farkle's doing, but all of your attention is aimed towards her and she's not smiling and she has no expression and for once, she's not making fun of you.

Your loud mouth of a friend exposes what you said about her when he hadn't moved. She's the blonde beauty. And she's just as confused as he is, and certainly more than her best friend.

So you listen to her sing and you call her Miss Hart and you push down the feelings you aren't supposed to have.

Because you're supposed to like her best friend, right?

/

You grab her waist to stop her from hurting your friend. Her body stiffens up against your touch and you grab her shoulders, directing her back to her seat. And she doesn't respond for a moment, but you know she felt something just as you did. Because her head whips around and she looks at you confused, only for a moment, and she turns back around.

You're almost kind of happy that the girl you accidentally like and your best friend don't feel a connection as they slap hands together. Because you know she felt something, and so did you when you touched her.

But you keep quiet and continue to beckon that you like the girl you used to like. The girl you don't like, you don't but you do.

You confuse yourself.

/

You take her and her best friend, along with your best friend, to Texas. You teach her to ride a horse and she falls and almost hurts herself. You freak out but she reassures that you need to stop worrying.

You sit around a campfire with her, the girl you used to like up and left with your old best friend and your new best friend. It's just you two and she asks you something.

What was the big bad thing you did, Lucas?

And you tell her.

And she doesn't think of you any different.

/

You sort of break up with the girl you used to be sort of dating and you can tell the girl you used to like is about to cry. You never intended to make her cry, but you know you can't commit to a girl who isn't genuine with you. Who you aren't genuine with.

The girl you accidentally like looks at you as if you've just killed a lamb, and perhaps you have. You wish to tell her the reason why you broke it off with the girl you used to like, but you can't. Because she'll run.

So you keep quiet to yourself.

/

She doesn't talk to you for a month. You don't like it, not one bit. And so when she starts to respond to you when you ask her something or look at you with her familiar smile, you heart speeds up and you're happy.

Things may not be the same, not ever, but you're happy.

Because she gets why you broke up with her best friend, she does. She just doesn't want to believe it. And neither do you, not really.

/

You rub her shoulder as the subject of her father is brought up in class. She's shaking and on the verge of crying, but she saves that for the night when you crawl through her window. She doesn't want you there, she says.

But you know the truth. You'll always know the truth.

So you come up to her and throw your arm around her shoulders and she's crying, and she doesn't know why. But you let her cry as mascara stains run down your shirt and she's blubbering, she's not making sense.

And you hold her.

And she thanks you.

/

She falls asleep on your shoulder and you have no utter idea what to do. Her head is lying there and if it keeps like that, she'll most certainly get a crane in her neck. So you lift her chin up softly and her head just falls back onto there.

You were supposed to be doing a science project, but you're distracted, and you're not sure if it's with the right thing. The girl you used to like reassures that you only need some space to figure things out and then, in the end, everything will work out. (What you know she's saying, though, is that you'll end up together. You're not so sure you want to be with her anymore, especially how you're distracted with the blonde waves of her best friend.)

But you already know how you feel, no matter how much you wish you didn't.

And her best friend knows too. And her best friend knows. Neither of them want to know.

And neither do you, but you can't help it. You just can't help it, and both of the best friends like you back in the way you like them, and one of the best friends likes you in the way you don't like them. But you can't seem to admit it. You can't seem.

You don't know what to do.

/

She fawns over the familiar and infamous uncle all night during New Years. And you shouldn't be feeling jealous, you know that much. But the way she's looking at him and the way he's holding her has your stomach going up in flames.

You shouldn't be feeling this way. No, you shouldn't. But you do.

So that's why you give her the New Years kiss she had been saving for the uncle. She's mad, don't you know it. But you can see with the small smile laced on her lips that everything was going to work out in the end. You know she feels the same way as you.

And you're happy.

/

You hold her hand tightly as you, out of all people, give your middle school valedictorian speech. She looks at you with a bright smile and you know that there's something there, you just don't know what, but you know that there's something there.

And she hugs you. And you hold her. And you feel as if everything is right in the world.

And she's the girl you love.

* * *

 **i could do this in maya's pov if i wanted to. i guess i could. i am. enjoy this was really bad!**

 **this was real confusing lmao sorry so imma clear a few things up.**

 **nicknames given to riley by lucas: the girl you like, the girl you know you like, the girl you used to like, the girl you don't like, the girl you used to be sort of dating**

 **nicknames given to maya by lucas: the girl you aren't supposed to like, the girl you accidentally like, the girl you do like, the girl you love**

 **REVIEW AND FAVE ! ! !**


	2. riley

**same universe as the last chapter, obviously, but some things are different because i had to adjust to the new spoilers given. nothing really major, i suppose. also, this is in riley's pov!**

* * *

You're naive, sure, but you're not oblivious; you're optimistic, of course, but you're not stupid. You're not blind, and you can see it happening right before your eyes. And it saddens you, you think. You're not oblivious and stupid, you know that much with the way your best friend holds you in her arms at night when you're crying about your insecurities. You're not dumb or uneducated for seeing things the way _you_ do, but you do know one thing.

You're jealous.

And, you think, you don't really have the right to be jealous, you do, but you are. You really are. Because it's something you had pushed down in your stomach until the day it was blatantly obvious and you couldn't ignore it anymore. You know, god do you know that your best friend would never intend to hurt you. But she did. She did.

/

He meets her on a subway. She saw him first, therefore she reserved the right to want him first. But your best friend cares for you so when you called dibs, you certainly called dibs. It's how it was, and she respected it. Even though you saw the way her eyes glinted with amusement as she introduced herself, how her hands folded out in front of her and how he smiled like she was the reason he had smiled in New York.

But you ignore it, because you're distracted with the way his chiseled cheeks are formed and the smile he has (not aimed at you, sadly, but smiling nonetheless). Your best friend walks away with a smile and a sway in her step and prompts you that he's available.

So she pushes you onto his lap and he smiles and you smile. And, you think, that's only the beginning of a beautiful relationship. (You think.)

/

She grabs his attention as he walks through the hall. Your heart leaps as you make eye contact with him, however, before you can get a word in, she's quickly making fun of him. You know you shouldn't feel jealous over the fact that your best friend is only making fun of the guy you like, but you _are_ and you can't help it.

It isn't a big ordeal, not really. But the way his eyes are filled with mirth and he has that familiar smirk on his face, only reserved for your best friend, you know that something isn't right. He shakes her finger and you frown, because they're having a little too much fun without you. So you frown.

But you walk away with him to class and your best friend is dancing and doing her weird things, but you know the guy you like is smiling. And not because of you, no, because of your best friend. So when he accidentally picks you up late at your house (he is such a gentleman, and you swoon) he has to explain that he was picking up a rose. For you? No.

For your best friend.

And he places the rose between your best friend's fingers. And you frown, and she rolls her eyes, and he smiles.

/

You see the way he's looking at her in the middle of class as if she's his only source of light. It's unintentional, of course, but subconsciously, he's falling for her.

Who can blame him? Your best friend is a catch, with the blue eyes and the blonde hair, it's hard not to fall for her. But you think, why is it always her? Why do the guys always fall for her? You don't know why as you stare sadly between the two.

/

Your best friend sits at your bay window and tells you how stuck up his mom is (you're certain she's lovely) and how she went all out on the muffin ingredients. You pretend to listen as if it doesn't bother you, because it shouldn't. They're _friends_ , aren't they? So why would it bother you?

You don't know.

But you listen anyway. And when she comes close to his face and says something he has never said before, you shut your eyes and shake your head. Because she's an inch, only an inch away from kissing him. It's intimate and close and you wish you had such the relationship with Lucas as did Maya, but you shake your head and ignore it.

And then she does it again. You're out the door, you wouldn't know. But you hear it softly as you're already outside of the classroom. The soft exchange between the two, the ha hurr, and you know, you just know that it's her getting close to his face and almost sort-of kissing.

And you know he's smiling.

/

You hit his ass earlier with your glove mitt (intentional, of course), and he just looks at you with a confused expression. You think nothing of it at the time being, until he's walking up to your best friend and your stomach drops. Your stomach shouldn't be dropping if they were just your normal, average platonic friends.

But it is, and you can't help it.

You can't hear what they're saying, but you know it's romantic as she smiling and he shakes his head at something goofy she said. You shouldn't be feeling this way, no you shouldn't. But you are, and it sucks. You know what? It fucking sucks.

And your heart drops as he scares you half to death as he walks up to your best friend's window (as if it's a normal, everyday occurrence), but all he is doing is smiling at her. No, not you. But _her_ , it's always her. And you're jealousjealousjealousjealous _jealous_ and you can't fucking help it.

/

You see the way she looks at him as they walk through the halls looking for your male best friend. And it's not an innocent look, she's biting her lip and she's _checking him out_ you know she is, but she denies it as you talk to her about it later. She would never betray you, would she?

And you see the way he picks her up effortlessly, his hands ducking under her armpits and plucking her off of the ground. And she's refraining a smile, you know she is. He sets her down and she's laughing and he's laughing. But you shouldn't feel this way. You shouldn'tshouldn'tshouldn't, because she's your best friend and he's the guy you like so you _shouldn't_ feel this way, but you do.

Especially when you think you've got the situation under control but she takes it in her hand anyway, hopping on his back. And she's the one who calms him, not you. And she's the one who has her hands around his body, not you.

And you're sad, you're so very sad.

/

You see the way he looks between Josh and Maya and Josh and Maya and Josh and Maya. You can tell he's angry, perhaps just as jealous as you. And you know he's in denial, just as you are. And you know you're happy when he claims you as your own.

But it isn't sincere. And don't you know it? He wants to go home, he only wants to go home. You think you don't know why, but you do, you certainly do. The sight of the girl he isn't supposed to like and your uncle has his stomach churning, when it shouldn't.

Because he likes you, right?

/

She asks him out first and you don't understand. Wasn't she supposed to be the one who supported yours and Lucas' relationship? Wasn't she supposed to be the one who was at your wedding? But you encourage their relationship anyway, she jokes. She says she would never date Ranger Rick, but you know she's lying.

He takes you on a date and you're elicited with joy as he raises his hand, as he comes to your house to ask permission. Your father may say no, but your heart is pounding in your chest. He's very casual about it though, much to your disappointment, but you don't care. He asked you out, and not Maya. (Somehow, you're still jealous.)

You know his eyes flicker to hers as you two are walking down the subway steps. It wasn't supposed to be this way, you think. He was supposed to love me, he was supposed to love _me_. But no matter how sad you are, you push it down in your chest and greet him with a smile.

His eyes are stuck upon the Josh and Maya and Josh and Maya and Josh and Maya situation once more, and you can tell that he's angry and upset. He shouldn't be though, he's the guy _you_ like, she isn't supposed to be the girl he likes. But you push it down as he beckons you to comfort her.

But she pushes you into his lap once more and you kiss him softly, and quick. You don't feel anything much, but he smiles. So do you.

/

She makes fun of your date for the whole three month period between the seventh and the eighth grade. You don't think much of it, it's just usual Maya. So when she blows kisses towards the guy you like, you shake your head and sigh.

They're back at it again. Shouldn't you be worried?

And you see his face again, the jealous type. He shouldn't be jealous when _he's_ holding your hand, and he shouldn't look like he had just been _slaughtered_ when he was about to admit that he liked you. He's jealous Farkle, what a surprise, isn't it? That's not how it was supposed to be, was it?

/

You're mad, you're so very mad when you find out he was different back in Texas. And, you think, you reserve no _right_ to be jealous, it was _his_ secret and when he chose to expose it, that was his choice. But when would it ever be? Would it ever be?

So you're mad, and she's not. She's just perfect, usual Maya. She comforts him with witty jokes and _she's_ the one who tells him that she finally likes him. She's the one who tells him that he's still who he has always been, despite his mistakes in Texas. It's not you, no it's not. She shouldn't be the one who is turned on by his anger and his strength, you shouldn't be the one who's scared and naive (not oblivious). But it's her.

She's the one who encourages him to be who he is. Not you.

/

You're mad at your best friend for everything, yet nothing. You don't understand it much, but you know she's mad at _you_ and not him. Sure, you didn't defend her but shouldn't _she_ be mad at him for calling her short? Why, _why_ isn't she mad at him?

She points at him and he takes a step back.

He holds her hand in his and he directs it to his shirt. She's mad at him and you think, why this? Why so much contact, because _normal_ platonic friends don't act as they do. They don't, they don't, they _don't_. But you ignore it as she shakes her head and walks away from him. Because she wouldn't purposely hurt your feelings, would she? You're not so certain anymore.

You don't like it much when they're exchanging a normal conversation as if they' never fought and you don't like it when she says that she's mad at you, not him. Why not him?

Why does he let her?

/

And of course he chooses her over you, he tells you that he never does anything. And he tells her that he's just like her.

Why did he pick her? She tells you about it after her detention, how she grabbed his shirt and pulled him so close to her. You're mad, you're very mad. But you suppress your emotions as you think about how you wiped the paint off of his face. Was it romantic? Sure, it was. Was it hot like he was with Maya? No, it wasn't. Nothing will ever compare to what Maya does, is what you think.

She's the one who actually goes out and buys a Lucas The Good T-shirt for him. Not you, and it shouldn't be you. Because you see the smile on his face as she gives it to him and you see how wide his eyes are. Because it's just them, Lucas and Maya and Lucas and Maya and Lucas and Maya.

/

She calls him by his name for nearly the first time ever. And you don't think of it much until she explains why. And you know what she said, but you know what she meant.

/

You see her come close to his face once more, only one ha hurr away from kissing. And he's smiling at confused and she's smiling and happy, and the exchange is so much more than platonic. You don't like it much.

And your heart lurches in your body as you're told that they're voted as favorite couple. Of course it's them, not you and him, but _them_. Maya eyes you and you argue with your class. It's supposed to be you and Lucas, isn't it? It's supposed to be you and Lucas. So you change, not for him, but you change for Farkle and for you. (And sort of for him.)

He's kind of upset but he's only trying to change _her_ back as she changes into you and you see how upset he gets as people disregard her feelings. Because they're Lucas and Maya, and you'll only ever be is Riley. So you keep your feelings chained in your stomach and shove them deep deep down where no one, not even you, can find them.

No matter how much it hurts.

/

You expect him to ask you in an extravagant way, something that will please your needs. But he doesn't, of course he doesn't. He assumes you're just going with him, but you frown as you hold the flowers in your hand from the guy you didn't want to put in an effort.

And he dances with her, not you.

You're jealous.

/

You don't like it much when she gets told her art class is being taken away, because it's _her_ thing and no matter how much you're jealous, you still love her and you still want your best friend to be happy no matter the circumstances. But you can't help but feel your heart lurch as he is fired up, as Zay puts it. Because she's sitting there, a confused and most certainly touched look on her face.

She doesn't know what to say, and neither do you as she gets told by _him_ that she deserves to be happy. That he wants her to be happy, that her art is great, that she's a great artist. And she is all of those things, she deserves all of those things, but hearing him say it to her plummets your stomach into oblivion, and sometimes, you wish you weren't so naive.

He listens her sing, and you see his face. She can sing, of course she can on top of all the other things she's good at.

You're upset, you're so very upset.

And you see the way his face looks as Zay exposes what he said back in the day about her. She's the beautiful blonde, of _course_ she is. But what are you? You're the pretty brunette. Nothing compared to, of course.

/

He grabs her waist. He grabs _her_ waist and grabs _her_ shoulders and he's the one who directs her back to her seat tenderly, waiting upon her confused reaction. You know that you shouldn't be feeling this way, and you know that _she_ shouldn't be feeling this way. She knows how you feel, doesn't she?

So you watch as she turns back around, fully intending on giving his ass a whopping but she only gives him a confused look, something but nothing significant being exchanged between the two. Another silent conversation, of course. You compare it with the moment she has with Farkle, the guy she's _supposed_ to like. That moment was supposed to be paralleled with your parents, but it wasn't when she declared that she felt nothing.

But you know she felt something with Lucas.

And you're mad.

/

The group decides when you duel with Maya that he is the best one to contain her. And you can tell by how they talk to each other, and how he blatantly flirts with her that it wasn't a good idea, at least not on your part.

It's your turn now as he gets angry at you, not directly. He's mad at you for not telling him about how you're getting bullied, but you get distracted with the fact at how your best friend is certainly turned on by the fact that the guy you like is strong, and he's attractive.

It's not right, you think. And top of the bullying, you want to break.

/

He takes you and your best friend and his best friend and his _other_ best friend to Texas. It's where she stupidly rides a horse and gets hurt, and he's the one who freaks out.

And it's where he stupidly rides a bull (named Tombstone, nonetheless) and he gets hurt. He gets very hurt and you're scared, you're very scared and yes, you're the one who runs into the ring. But she's the one who stays up all night in the hospital, holding his hand.

Not you, because you're sleeping.

But it's her.

You figure out later that he tells her what the Big Bad was. You start to understand.

/

You want to cry, you certainly do as he's sort of but not really breaking up with you. Because you were never really dating, you weren't. But with the look in his eyes, you know why he is. And you've known all along, you've known from the moment he met her with the smile he had saved for her.

And you cry to your best friend. She asks you why, you don't know what to tell her. But she knows why, and you know she knows, and she knows you know, and she knows that he knows, and she knows that you know that he knows.

It's confusing.

/

She doesn't talk to him for a month, not against your wishes per se, but she refuses to do so. She cuts him out of her life as he breaks your heart, and you're oh so grateful and oh so happy. But you tell her that it's okay. It's okay, Maya, you say.

Because it is. And you've come to terms with it. (Maybe, sort of, not really, but it's okay.)

/

You see him rub her shoulder in the middle of class as her father is brought up in a conversation. And your heart drops, but you're trying to come to terms with it. It's okay, you think (when you know it's not really). Because Lucas likes Maya and Maya likes Lucas, and that's okay.

You know the moment she doesn't come through your bay window that Lucas is over at Maya's house, holding her in his arms and you know. So you get up, get on your pajamas, and brush your teeth.

You wait for her in your bay window for thirty more minutes until she shows up, dried tears on her face. She's still crying but she's still happy. She's smiling. You know why.

/

You see the look he gets, once more, as she's fawning over your uncle. It's not an unfamiliar look, it was the look you used to have whenever Lucas and Maya were in the same vicinity (not so much, anymore) and you're okay with it. You know he has the right to be feeling so, but not you.

Because Lucas was never really yours.

So you're okay with it when he grabs her face and kisses her like he hasn't kissed anyone before, certainly not you. And you're okay with it when she smiles after, and you're okay.

Because you've come to terms.

/

You see the why she holds his hand and the way she's smiling at him as if he's the only light in the darkness of her world. And you're okay with it, you're finally okay with it.

Because it's Lucas and Maya and Lucas and Maya and Lucas and Maya, and they would never hurt you, would they?

Because _she's_ the girl he loves.

* * *

 **my oh my this was Yikes. next comes up maya. hope this made sense, it prolly didn't.**

 **REVIEW AND FAVE ! ! !**


	3. maya

**this is way overdue but i forbid myself to write anymore fics until i finish pyp and iol. which prolly is never going to happen but rip. ALSO the plot has changed quite a bit with recent spoilers. so there's that.**

* * *

You meet him on a subway. His head shoots up at the mere sight of you, a slight smile playing at the edge of his lips as he begins to listen to your meaningless words that will most certainly have no affect on him (you're wrong). The glint in your eye is much too bright as you start to play a game with him, a game you later learn that has no end, and will go on forever.

At least you hope so.

You're doing this for your best friend, you remember. To teach her to reach out of her comfort zone, but you're mind is completely taken from it's own as you enter a seven second relationship with the subway boy you met only two seconds prior. You like it.

And you think you like him.

But you shove the feeling down deep into the base of your stomach where you hope it will only be forgotten forever as you walk away from him with a sway in your step, smiling as your best friend talks nonsense and shoving her towards the boy you had unintentionally grown quite an affection towards. But you think you'll forget about it, you'll never see him again, you think.

You think.

/

You learn to make fun of him. It's a natural reaction, it's a natural occurrence at some point. It feels good to make fun of someone, but doesn't feel so good when he recuperates with the same amount of force. But it's fun, you think. It's like a game, naturally, and you think you're winning. (You're wrong.)

He starts to pick up on your little quips, he knows what to say back to get you riled up—you tend to think that annoys you.

(You know you're lying to yourself.)

(And you know you enjoy it.)

You get most certainly, definitely, absolutely, completely annoyed with the way he reflects what you say. You feel the small shivers down your spine as he shakes your finger in such a way, not menacing but more so to annoy you. He's always annoying you, it seems. And he calls you ma'am, once you think. But the amount of time he slips it into conversation messes up in your head and you think twice, thrice.

You remember the feeling of Farkle touching your skin softly and you remember looking up, expecting to see the tender face of your best friend, only to see Mister Huckleberry's face with a rose in his hand and your eyebrows furrow and your frown hardens. You roll your eyes.

He isn't playing this right.

/

Heat radiates from your cheeks as your mother introduces herself to the whole seventh grade student body of your class, your head falls in your hands in an embarrassed manner as she completely and totally embarrasses you. Not in a good way, in a way you want to crawl in a hole and starve type of way.

And you can feel his eyes glued to the back of your head and all you really want to do is _smack_ him because this isn't his place, nor it will ever be.

But your face falls into a state of relief as Farkle makes an unknown jab towards your home life, he doesn't know, so you don't really blame him. But it hurts knowing that your friends could be unaware, and could—of course, accidentally—offend you. But he understands, you think, as he grabs the face of one of your best friend's and Farkle finally understands.

You want to thank him, but you don't. You really don't.

/

You remember calling him Bucky McBoingBoing. (You think Boing means hot, but you don't remember.)

/

You're at his house and your ass is propped up on his kitchen counter with no care in the world (you're only trying to piss him off) and he's yelling at you as you stick your finger in the muffin batter. ( _Wash your hands, Maya! Get your ass off the counter, Maya! Stop doing this, Maya! Maya, Maya, Maya!_ ) You think you get annoyed easily.

You meet his mom, a sweet lady who's much too nice for your liking but you take a liking to her anyway. She kind of reminds you of Riley, and that's when the idea is ingrained into your mind. (Where Riley and Lucas could really, truly, be related of course, but you think you ought to shove that done for another day.) You go through the old baby albums of his and you laugh as you see his face flustered and annoyed.

You take pride out of that.

People throw a muffin at your head. You try to sell muffins together. Granted, you fail. You think it's because of his Cornucopian Dreams of saving the world one muffin at a time, you express this to him and he laughs.

Your face is close to his in an instant, and you tell yourself that it will never happen again. But it does as he asks Riley (the girl he likes) if he can have a job with her. It happens again without a thought, and you walk away briskly, a smile on your face as he says only once, "Yeah, I had that coming."

So you follow the girl he likes, the two that are destined for the stars.

(Or so you believe.)

(Because you start to believe that there's absolutely no chance with you and him, and you don't think you deserve him.) (He doesn't deserve you.)

/

You're set forth on wanting to beat the shit out of Farkle until he comes up to you, his hand in front of his body as he tells you he's taking you out. Your heart leaps, only for a moment or two, until you realize that he's with Riley and that he will never, most certainly ever go out with someone like you. So you tell it to him straight, telling him what it will be and what it will _always_ be.

"You're not my type."

He laughs and shakes his head, and you knowknowknow that you will never be his type. So you shove your despair down and save it for another day. So he tells you he's taking you out of the game. But you're still you, so you stomp and whine until your finally conform and give him the damned ball.

That damned stupid ball. (You can't believe you're blaming your _him_ problems on a baseball, but you give what you get, you think. You don't understand the saying, anyway.)

You're scared for only a moment until you open the window of your apartment, staring at him as if you've never seen anything before and you smile, because he is such a big ass Huckleberry.

(You look at his ass one time to confirm.)

/

You remember the feeling of your stomach dropping as you hear that one of your best friends isn't showing up at school anymore. You and him search the library for that little Farkle of yours, you check absolutely _everywhere_. Under the counters, between books in the bookshelf until the librarian finally yells at you.

The words slip out of your mouth before you even mean it and you're already attempting to stomp out of the door of the janitors closet until his hands clasp around your arms, as if it's an everyday occurrence. He picks you up without a struggle, and you feel yourself attempting not to display the smile that's threatening to show on your face. He sets you back down and you refuse, absolutely refuse, to laugh.

He is not going to win this game, even if he gets you all flustered.

Even though he once tells you that violence isn't the answer, you see the way his eyes widen and the way he pins Billy to the wall. Your heart leaps for a second, because you never knew that he had this side. But you know what to do as your best friend is quaking in her own very boots at seeing her supposed to be lover pinning someone against the wall.

So you hop on his back, telling him and soothing him softly. You start to think that he listens to you, as his hand gradually find his way to your knees to keep you upright and your grip is strong and it's holding. You can feel his warmth and your heart is going a mile a minute, certainly, and then he says, "Can you get off my back?" so you hop down and stand next to his lover.

(His supposed to be, his always.)

You watch him as he goes up to your fill in father, looking back slightly only to see the world _"Perfect_ " scrawled tenderly across his forehead.

/

You don't really think much of it. It's more of a natural reaction you had grown fond to, and your best friend's uncle is a nice piece of eye candy, you think. He's caring, sweet, attractive and all you could really ask for. (You're in denial.)

You can see the grimace on his face as he turns to look at you and your best friend's uncle. But you ignore it and turn you attention back towards Josh, reminding yourself that Riley is his his his his his his. (You have to say it over and over again to even believe yourself, it's like a never ending mantra.)

(You never really believe it.)

His words are soft and he says it over and over again, silently begging as he sees you and the uncle. "I want to go home."

"I want to go home."

"I want to go home."

But he stays.

/

He takes your best friend on a date (and Riley is his his his his his his). You know that you have to push the two apparent love birds together, so you ask him out. Your hands shake slightly to your side, but you think you play cool as his confused look fills up the room. (Hey, Other One, he tells you.)

Your attempt is successful and you tag along with the shaggy haired best friend, but nothing feels right. Everything should be switched, you think. But it's not, and perhaps in another universe it is. But here, you're not with him and he's not with you and he's with your best friend (and Riley is his his his his his his).

You see the uncle you had grown so fond of with another girl, you can feel your heart plummet to your stomach. So you sit next to him, and you fake a smile as you try to collect yourself. He'll always be in your dungeon of sadness, you think.

You think you'll always have a dungeon of sadness.

/

You see the way your best friend reacts to the fact that Lucas isn't who she thought who he was. You see the way her eyes darken and she's angry (for what, you want to ask, but you don't) at something or anything.

But you don't see him any different. All you see is some stupid Huckleberry who made a few mistakes during his elementary career. Sure, people could look at some stupid Huckleberry different but he hasn't done anything wrong. He's just stupid, stupid Huckleberry.

"I'm Ranger Rick!"

You say you finally like him. (Long overdue.)

/

Your heart swells with some new kind of anger that you didn't know you had. You're angry at your best friend (thought you know you should be angry at him) and you're angry, you're angry, you're angry angry angry and _God_ , you don't know why. So you point a finger at him and he backs up slightly, surprised with your sudden anger and fierceness.

Your hand lies softly on your funny friends chest, tightly tugging his shirt until he grabs your hand and directs it towards his. You shiver, for only a moment or two, before you get over it and stare at him menacingly. Your grip tightens.

"You want to tangle with me?"

"Not yet."

But you go back to your seat anyway, refusing to put your elbow on his desk. Because you're pissed at him, you're pissed at her (and for more than one reason), you're pissed at your fill in father, for god knows what, you're pissed at yourself. You're pissed at the world for fucking you over a numerous amount of times.

So you fake your smile and call him his familiar nicknames while he does his familiar smirk that you had missed, and you feel your stomach grow with warmth. You missed this, and you think you started to miss him.

Why do you let her?

He doesn't answer.

/

You set out to get detention (you don't know if it's on purpose, really, but you shut up for once) and he's in the middle, having to choose between you and his star crossed lover. (Because Riley is his his his his his his and he'll never pick you.) (You're wrong.) (You hate being wrong.) So he chooses you, running out the door like some crazed maniac, because he's acting like one.

I'm just like you now, he tells you.

You really have no utter idea what you're doing as you slather paint on everyone's faces. And you know that you'll mess up, so you ask him for help. He obliges and slowly, but surely, swipes the paint down your nose all the way to the edge of your lips. Your breath hitches, you think. And so does his. Because he shakes out of it quickly and shakes his head, turning away and giving you back the paint bottle.

So you grab his shirt, bring his body close to yours. His body is flushed up and his eyes are widened, but his shoulders slack as he gets back to your familiar game. He's warm, and you want to stay there forever and ever and ever. And you're an inch, only an inch away from being able to kiss him

But you don't, because he likes your best friend and you love your best friend and you both like your best friend and so you don't.

But you see the way he looks back at you as you sit in your desk solemnly, and you sigh. All you do is sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh.

/

You've always known his name.

/

You laugh to yourself and bite your lip tenderly as you get close to his face once more, even though you promised that you wouldn't. Something's so enjoyable with the way he retorts back and you don't know _why_ but you like it. (You like him.) Your head shoots up from curiosity as someone says you and him were voted favorite couple. Because you don't understand, you _don't_ because you thought thought thought that it would always be Riley and Lucas and Lucas and Riley, the two star crossed lovers of the grade.

And things can't change now.

And you'll kill him if he hurts her. You will, you will.

But he does so, anyway, as your best friend changes. She's upset and she doesn't know why, because you think she's finally starting to realize that things were never really Riley and Lucas, that it was never really Riley telling the story of her and the boy she liked (but it was you). She changes her room, she changes her clothes, her hair, her talk.

So you change with her to get her back, and you learn that no one ever really liked you. It was all Riley, only Riley and it will forever be. But now he's pissed at your for changing. You notice that he's not really mad at Riley, but more so mad at your for changing. But you've got her, so you ignore him. You ignore and ignore and ignore.

And then it pops up, what you had shoved down for another day back in seventh grade while making muffins. It pops up and you regret it, you regret ever living. And shit, this is bad and bad and bad.

/

But you dance with him anyway, feeling your dress swoosh around your ankles tenderly as you talk with him, a smile plastered on your face as you tell him "You're still dancing with me." He stutters, and you laugh. He laughs, you all laugh.

Everything suddenly feels right in the world.

/

Your hands shake in your lap as you get told that your art class, the one thing that you thought was always and forever going to be there for you, was being removed, canceled, whatever the fuck you want to call it. Because it's the one thing you thought you deserved, you knew you deserved. (You were wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.)

So you sit down in your seat and you sigh, just painting and painting because that's all you can _do_. No one ever listens to a short girl with a broken home and a pathetic excuse for a life. No one ever really does.

But your attention is set forth on him, your body turned intently as he tells you that your art matters. That you're good at what you do. That you deserve happiness. That you always deserve happiness, and he wants wants wants you to be happy. (Your heart is speeding more than you have ever known.) And you see the small smile on his face and his eyes light up with some type of mirth you had never seen on him before.

And all you do is stare.

You're unaware that Zay is cracking up and you're unaware of Riley's confused expression because something had just happened here. Something important had just happened, and God you'd like to know. And for once, you're not making fun of him.

You find out he called you beautiful once upon a dream, and you're confused. What does this mean, you ask yourself. Because he says he wants you to be happy, and he's called you beautiful and Riley's confused and so are you and so is he and something's emerging and something's happening.

No more no more no more.

But he listens to you sing and calls you Miss Hart, and you know that nothing is right. Not anymore, at least.

/

So he grabs your waist as you go to attack his best friend. You feel his warm touch against yours and you don't understand, because something unfamiliar erupts inside of you. And you can't pinpoint the exact moment, but you know that you like him. More than friends type of way, but you shut your own self up.

Because it was nothing, but your head whips around anyway in a confused manner but you turn back around with the way he's smirking and you shake your head. (You think you understand what it means now as you touch hands with Farkle and you don't feel the same way as you did the day prior.)

He's confusing you and you're confusing him and yourself and Riley and he's confusing Riley and Riley's confusing you and him. God, this is too much.

/

He contains you, and he asks if you you're okay. (No, you want to say. So many things aren't right.) I'm fine.

And you admit it, out loud at least, that you're attracted to him when he's angry. Because he's hot, he is and he is and something digs deep down as you tell him to pick up the bed.

/

He picks up on the fact that you're anxious and that you're worried and he takes action almost immediately, leaning his body into yours as he takes his hand and almost automatically clasps it over your eyes. Your mouth hangs agape and his head hides tenderly behind your hair.

And you're so grateful that you have him.

/

He takes you to Texas. He takes you to Texas and he rides a bull named Tombstone and you think he's going to die (well, you know) and you refuse to watch that stupid Huckleberry doing stupid things so you rush away from him, because he won't listen to you and he's such a stupid Huckleberry.

But he's okay. But you refuse to talk to him. Not ever, you would keep your promise. Keep your promise, you tell yourself over and over and over again until you're breaking it on his porch. You almost tell him that you care about him, but you hold it back because he doesn't deserve to know. He doesn't.

But he holds your face in his hands as you're angry at him. You try and try and try to push him away but he grabs your face anyway and your breath is sucked out of your lungs. His hands are cupped around your face and his eyes are soft and his breath is warm and you can feel his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

His head leans down, only slightly of course, until he closes his eyes. And he realizes what he's doing. And he's got to stop. He's got to stop and stop and stop. Please tell him to stop. So he pulls away from your face and you're disappointed, because he didn't kiss you and he should have and he didn't. But you sit down next to him anyway, still feeling the warmth of his hands on your face.

(You try to go on a date with him, but it's going way too fast.)

(Someone stop me, you beg.)

/

Your heart shatters in your chest as you're assigned to forgive your father. You feel his soft hand touch your shoulder in a light sort of way, only to tell you that he's there. And he'll always be. He reassures you and you think you listen.

He's got a pull on you and you didn't even know.

So you go to his house in the dead of night and you walk up to his bed with tears in your eyes and a stuffed nose and he accepts you in his arms graciously as you fall into an unsteady rhythm of sobs. But even though you refuse to forgive your dad, and nothing is right, the way he holds you and tenderly strokes your hair feels so right.

/

You look and listen to him for nearly the first time ever (you're lying) and he talks to you. He's not pushing you, like Riley was. Because he understands that you refuse to be pushed. He gets that, so instead he talks. And he tells you what it's like and what it will be like and when it's okay and you don't have to do it.

But you do, anyway. In a private and quiet place, and you pray. You don't pray about yourself, but you pray about Farkle. And your best friend, and _him_. Only for a moment or two because you have to realize, that it will never happen. Never not really.

/

But you spend the New Years Eve with him, anyway. He holds your hand tenderly and laughs at your jokes and his eyes are bright and never wavering from yours. Your heart leaps and everything is right (not really) and he holds your face like he did on that one night by the campfire and he kisses you, with his lips and his heart and everything yet nothing.

And everything is perfect up until where Farkle takes matters into his own hands.

(Riley still loves Lucas!)

/

He breaks up with your best friend, but not really in a sort of we're breaking up but we were never really together so whatever. And shut up. And whatever. It's up to you as you hold your breaking and crying best friend in your arms and she's balling and she's crying and you want to, oh so bad, punch him in the face over and over and over again until you're finally deemed satisfied (which will never be) but your best friends begs and begs you not to.

You don't.

But you know why it happened. You see the way Riley looks at you and him, and it's as if it's the look of despair and sadness. Because she gets that it's now you and Lucas, not that it was ever Riley and Lucas. And everyone knows.

/

You don't talk to him for a month. Riley didn't wish for so, but you refuse to do so. You're confused, and Riley's hurt, and Lucas is stupid and nothing is right. Nothing was ever right with Lucas in the equation and you have no _damn_ idea why you're so attached. Someone please stop me, you beg. (Because Riley was his his his his his his but now the roles are reversed.)

But your best friend confronts you, and she tells you it's okay. Because she gets it now, and she starting to understand.

Lucas was never really mine, Maya. He never was.

/

So you hold his hand in yours and your smile brightens up wider and bigger and you're happy, you're happy with the way things were. And things were almost always confusing with you and him, but you were happy.

Because now it's you and him and him and you and you like it that way.

Because you're the girl he loves.

* * *

 **i only grammar checked once so whatever.**

 **i pulled this outta my ass but whtever. yall suck MY ass cuz i dont care anymore. i had to finish this or i was gunna be anxious. im gonna change the description slightly yll whatever**

 **REVIEW and fave i spent a lot of timeo n this.**


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